


Sickday

by Fogfire



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 11:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16449338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fogfire/pseuds/Fogfire





	Sickday

It’s one of these days. You know you’re sick right as you’re beginning to wake up. Your nose is stuffy, your throat hurts and there’s that itchy feeling in your chest that you always get right before you seem to cough up your lungs. The coughing fit still hits you out of nowhere and if not for Steve, you would have rolled out of bed by accident.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, slinging his arms around you and pulling you in.

Normally you’d appreciate his warmth in the morning, but right now it’s too much for you to take.

“You’re burning up!” He exclaims, holding a hand to your forehead, “Where’s your thermometer?”

“Second drawer in the bathroom,” you tell him and take the glass of water he hands you from the nightstand before he slips out of bed.

You watch him walk out of the bedroom. You might be sick, but the day you fail to appreciate the way your boyfriend looks in nothing more than boxers, you will know something is terribly wrong with you.

“This one does not have a scale,” he calls out, walking back into the room.

“It’s digital, just press the button and give it to me.”

He eyes you curiously, not taking his eyes off the thermometer when you put it into your mouth.

“Is it broken?” He asks when it starts beeping.

“No, it’s done.”

He pulls it out before you can, checking the little monitor.

“You have a fever,” he tells you, “I’ll go and get you something to eat. And medicine.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Nonsense,” he pats your leg through the blanket, “You have to eat. I’ll make you some oatmeal gruel, that’s what I used to get as a child. And then you can take a nap while I go shopping.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Nonsense,” he tells you again before getting up, “You’re my girlfriend, I’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry.”

Fifteen minutes later you’ve barely managed to swallow the rest of the gruel, realizing why no one eats that stuff anymore. It tastes disgusting.

“Let me just check your fever again,” Steve grabs the thermometer far too eagerly, shoving it into your mouth the moment you try to protest.

“Still a fever,” he tells you when it beeps.

“It hasn’t even been half an hour,” you tell him, slipping lower into the cushions.

He leans forward to kiss you.

“Sleep well. I’ll be back soon.”

-

You only realize you’ve fallen asleep when you wake up, feeling sweaty, sick and disgusting.

Something cool is resting on your forehead. You expect an ice pack and try to grab it so it will not slip into your lap when you sit up, but it’s hard, cold and way too big to be an ice pack.

“Awake?” A deep voice asks and you shriek, catapulting yourself out of the bed in shock.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, pulling the blanket over you as you realize you’re not wearing enough to meet your boyfriend’s best friend.

“Steve asked me to come,” Bucky tells you as if you should have known.

“And you think you’d just sit in bed with me?” You tie the blanket around you in a makeshift dress, standing up to glare at him.

He holds up both hands.

“He asked me to. Actually, he asked me to stick my arm in the freezer and put it on your forehead to get your fever down while he went out for groceries.”

“Doesn’t he know we have ice packs for that?”

“An ice pack could fall down when she turns in sleep,” Bucky imitates Steve’s voice and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Adoringly, but still annoyed.

“Thanks for your help, then.” You settle back in bed.

Bucky stays where he is, putting his arm against your forehead as soon as you have settled. You glare at him.

“I promised, okay? Do you want to go back to sleep or watch a movie?”

“Movie, I pick.”

-

When Steve comes back, you’re already halfway through the second movie, a comedy you had let Bucky pick. After all, he was doing you a favor. Not that you really pay attention to the screen anyway.

But the moment Steve steps into the bedroom, he lets out a scandalized gasp.

“Are you watching-? You promised you’d watch it with me. Bucky, move over, I need to watch this with my girl.”

Bucky doesn’t reply, he just grabs the remote and pauses the movie.

“Unpack your stuff first and then you can restart the movie. I don’t think she saw anything of it anyway.”

“She is present, listening and not amused,” you quip before coughing violently. “Did you get me some cough drops?”

“Even better,” Steve takes three of the four bags he’s brought and empties them on the bed.

“Did you buy the whole store?” You ask in shock at the sight of all the bottles and packages.

“No, silly, that’s just the cold medicine, cough drops, painkillers and throat lozenges they had.”

Bucky picks up a few packages, looking them over.

“This one tastes like moss? Why would you buy something like that?”

“We didn’t have this many choices back then!” Steve exclaims and takes the package back.

You grab a bottle of cherry flavored cough syrup you remember from your childhood as well as a box of lozenges with a colorful package.

“This two would have been enough, Steve, but thank you. You’re the best,” you tell him and he smiles at you, obviously proud before he remembers something.

“OH! The thermometer! Bucky, you wouldn’t believe how fast those things are nowadays.”

You groan but let him take your temperature. If it makes him happy, it makes you happy too.

-

“Wake up, doll,” Steve shakes your shoulder gently, rising you from yet another nap.

“Whatsamatter?” You grumble and blink, looking up into Steve’s face.

He pushes the hair off of your face, looking more worried than the one time you almost broke your leg during training.

“I’m not going to die,” you tell him as calm as you can when another coughing fit is trying to rattle your ribs, “It’s just a cold.”

“I made you chicken noodle soup,” he tells you, “That will help you feel better right away.”

“Thank you,” you mumble and let him help you sit up. You could have done it on your own, but he looks so proud when he’s able to help.

The soup has exactly the right temperature to warm you up, right as the chills are coming in. There’s also a lot of pepper in it and the vegetables are still a little crunchy, but he looks so proud and you tell him more than once that it’s the best soup you’ve ever had.

He makes you sip a cup of lukewarm tea right after the soup while fluffing the pillows and pushing them behind your back.

“You have to stay hydrated, doll,” he tells you when you put the cup away, leaving to get you another bottle of tea.

Good thing you’re sweating all of it out today or you would have to stay in the bathroom for the rest of the day after the amount of tea you’ve already had.

-

Steve’s doing his best.

He pulls you into his arms, almost wrapping himself around you to fight off the chills.

“Steve,” you groan, “The blanket’s enough. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Forget it. I’m not leaving my best girl when she needs me.”

You try to argue with him, but it’s so much easier to just snuggle closer and enjoy his warmth.

He puts on the first movie.

“That’s from my list,” he tells you, “I write down the movies I couldn’t watch with you.”

“Long list?” You ask as the movie starts. It’s a comedy and you’re thankful. A few good jokes should make you feel better in no time.

“Depends on what you call long,” he jokes and you shake your head at him.

He puts an action movie on right after while you’re trying to catch your breath from all the coughing fits you’ve had from laughing too hard.

“Sorry,” he tells you and kisses your temple, taking his tablet from the nightstand as you snuggle up to him.

You try to catch what he’s looking up on it, but he holds it over your head.

You pout and concentrate on the movie instead, trying to follow the story of it.

“Do you think Tony has a humidifier somewhere?” Steve asks, his voice rumbling through his chest beneath your resting head.

“Don’t know,” you mumble and he taps around on his pad, mumbling something under his breath as you feel yourself getting tired again.

The last thing you notice is Steve kissing your shoulder as if he wants to test how tired you really are before his lips brush your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers, but you could have just dreamt that up.


End file.
